


Number One Chief Rockers

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sibling Incest, Slight Dirty Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 06:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10939206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Miya twins have the house to themselves for the weekend once their mother leaves for a business trip.





	Number One Chief Rockers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so those are some tags so please mind them

“Bye, boys! Have a good weekend and stay out of trouble! Osamu, make sure your brother does his homework, okay? I love you both.”

“Mom! I can do my homework, ‘Samu doesn’t need to babysit me.”

“Uh huh, sure, that’s why I got an email from your principal last week about your grades slipping.”

Atsumu blinks, eyes wide and surprised as his jaw opens.

Their mother comes over and cups his cheeks in her hands, bringing their faces close together. “Atsumu, I know it’s been tough since your father left. But we have each other; you, Osamu and me,” she says as she kisses his forehead. “We all have responsibilities, and yours include keeping your grades up. College is important. I want you two to do better in life than I have.”

“M-mom,” Atsumu mutters and turns his head to the side, trying to blink away the moisture pooling in the corner of his eye.

“Shush now, it’s okay. Now, I’ll be gone all weekend. I probably won’t be back until Monday morning; you two will most have likely left for school by then. So, remember to do your homework. I’ve left chopped up vegetables in the fridge and rice in the cooker for easy dinners and don’t stay up all night. I’ll text you when I get there, okay?”

She opens the door and gives them one last wave before walking out towards the taxi in front of their gate.

“Well, you heard her,” Osamu says with a smirk, “go do your homework.”

Atsumu glares and opens his mouth to retort but Osamu walks over and gives him a quick peck on the lips.

“I’ll cook dinner while you work, okay?”

Atsumu feels tension leave his shoulders and agrees. He heads to the living room and opens his books, quickly running through equation after equation, stealing glances at Osamu all the while. Osamu’s wearing loose, gray sweatpants and a tight Inarizaki High School VBC tee-shirt. An older one that stretches tightly across his shoulders, accentuating the muscles of his back and upper arms.

Atsumu appreciates the quiet moments like this when he can admire Osamu. They both know how dangerous their relationship is. Neither quite remembers when it developed into _this_ but Atsumu knows he’d rather spend all his time with Osamu, and that his brother feels the same.

Osamu knows his brother is staring; neither of them can really help themselves during times like this. When they know they’re completely alone, almost no chance of being interrupted, when they can look and touch freely.

Compared to normal, when they’re both hyper aware of what’s socially acceptable and what’s not, withholding any sort of affection other than high fives and shoulder slaps that accompany a _good job!_ on the court.

With that in mind, he makes a point to shake his ass, teasing Atsumu, who he can hear quietly groan from the living room.

Osamu turns back to his cooking and flips a few carrot slices when he feels Atsumu come up behind him, wrapping his arms around him.

“Hey,” Osamu says as he leans his head back onto Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Hey, yourself,” Atsumu replies, turning to nuzzle Osamu’s cheek.

Osamu turns around and leans in for a kiss. Atsumu meets him halfway and it starts out chaste - lips meeting lips, moving over each other languidly, enjoying the sensation. Until Osamu opens his mouth to breath and Atsumu bites his bottom lip and sucks on it. It becomes more heated after that, with tongues and teeth, bodies pressed tight together, no room in between.

Atsumu maneuvers them forward until Osamu’s back hits the counter. Atsumu breaks away from their kiss to mouth at Osamu’s neck, tongue laving over skin. The itch to bite buzzes at the forefront of his mind _how nice it must feel to have skin between his teeth, to hear what kind of noises Osamu must make_ but he resists. Instead, he grabs Osamu by the back of the legs and encourages him to sit on the countertop.

Once Osamu is seated on the countertop, Atsumu settles himself between his brother’s legs. He nuzzles into Osamu’s neck, kissing down and across his collarbones.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, ever since Mom told us she’d be gone for the weekend.”  
  
“Oh? That’s dirty, Atsumu, thinking about your brother that way.”

They stare at each other briefly before Osamu snorts and the two laugh - big, ugly guffaws that leave them breathless in the end. When they come down, they’re wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the closeness that they rarely get to indulge in.

“Hey, Osamu,” Atsumu murmurs, his head buried in Osamu’s chest.

“Yeah, ‘Tsumu?”

“The stove is still on, isn’t it?”  
  
“SHIT!”

 

****

 

After deciding that only half the vegetables are worth salvaging, Atsumu manages to bother Osamu enough into ordering pizza.

They’re cuddled on the couch, Atsumu changed into pajama bottoms and one of Osamu’s tee-shirts.

Atsumu looks over at his brother and smiles when he thinks he’s not looking.

“What are you over there staring at like a dope?”

“You. You ordered pineapple pizza even though you don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well, I ordered half pineapple pizza, so don’t go around acting like it’s some huge romantic gesture or something,” Osamu grumbles back, trying to hide the blush rising on his cheeks.

Atsumu grins and leans over to peck Osamu on the forehead.

“I’m gonna go get the laptop, let’s watch a movie.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you want,” Osamu replies through a mouthful of food.

Osamu finds himself the little spoon on the couch to Atsumu’s big spoon. They’re watching some action flick that Atsumu has been talking about for weeks that Osamu has no interest in. So he takes this time to trail his fingers over Atsumu’s arm around his waist, amused at the gooseflesh that rises in his fingertips wake. He’s warm and comfortable and _happy,_ content to spend the evening wrapped in Atsumu’s arms. He stretches, repositioning himself when he feels Atsumu’s cock push up against his ass.

“Atsumu.”

“What! I can’t help myself with you rubbing yourself against me like that!”

Osamu hums but does it again, smiling to himself when he hears the sharp intake of breath Atsumu makes.

“Well, now you’re just teasing me.”

“Maybe,” Osamu singsongs back.

Atsumu huffs but turns his attention back to the movie. This time, though, he’s trailing fingers over Osamu’s arms, up and down to the sliver of exposed skin on his stomach where his shirt has risen up. There he walks his fingers of Osamu’s hip, delighting himself in the small shiver from Osamu. He plays with the coarse hairs of Osamu’s happy trail before slipping his hand under Osamu’s waistband.

Osamu gasps and Atsumu leans his head down to tongue at Osamu’s ear. Osamu whines and pushes his hips forward into Atsumu’s hand.

“Quit teasing, you ass.”

“My, my, desperate are we?”

“You know I am, come on.”

Atsumu wraps his fingers around Osamu’s cock and gives it a few appreciatory squeezes. Osamu groans and tilts his head back to rest of Atsumu’s shoulder.

“It’s been so long, ‘Samu, I’ve been thinking about it all the time. God, it’s so hard in the locker room keeping my eyes off you when all I wanna do is get on my knees and suck your cock.”

“Fuck, “Tsumu, please, come on, _move_.”

Atsumu buries his face in Osamu’s neck and starts a slow pace - tight, full length strokes that he knows will build Osamu up, but won’t bring him to climax too quickly.

Osamu whimpers and bucks into Atsumu’s hand, trying to get him to move faster. It’s good, but he’s waited so long and he wants more. He knows that they have all weekend, that they have time to indulge and go slow, to map out every single sensitive spot on each other. And they will. But for now, Osamu just needs to come and he’s pretty sure Atsumu feels the same.

He tilts his head up and grabs a handful of Atsumu’s hair, forcing their mouths together. He bites on Atsumu’s bottom lip as he grinds his ass back on Atsumu’s cock.

“Come on, Atsumu, fuck me,” he whines.

Atsumu responds with a desperate groan and quickens his pace on Osamu’s cock.

“‘Samu, please, I wanna, I-I,, just, I-I-,”

“I know, I know, I just, damnit, I need to come,”

Osamu snakes his hand down between them, accidently brushing Atsumu’s cock in a hurried effort to pull down their pants. Atsumu gives a high-pitched keen at the first stimulation to his oversensitive cock and thrusts up, desperate for more friction.

“Come on, Atsumu, like that.”

Atsumu thrusts into the soft skin between Osamu’s ass, the precome smeared around the tip of his cock smoothing the way in between Osamu’s cheeks.

Osamu wraps his hand around Atsumu’s on his own cock in an effort to get his brother to quicken the pace. He’s on edge, they’re both on edge, pent up energy from weeks worth of restraint teetering on being released. Osamu’s fucking into Atsumu’s hand as Atsumu’s fucking in between Osamu’s cheeks, rubbing across his tight hole.

“Can’t wait to be inside you, ‘Samu, love it so much, you’re so warm and tight, always gripping my cock, fuck you feel so good,”

Osamu is whining, disjointed chants of _‘Tsumu, please, yes, fuck_ leaving his mouth as his hips buck desperately into Atsumu’s fist.

Atsumu rubs the tip of Osamu’s cock, smearing around the precum and that makes the glide so much smoother.

Osamu makes a noise from the back of his throat like he’s dying and he’s bucking his hips once, twice, then he’s coming, keening and panting as he spurts over Atsumu’s hand.

Atsumu’s not far behind, roughly grinding against Osamu. He comes with his forehead pressed against Osamu’s back and a long, low whine.

They’re both breathing deep until Osamu breaks the silence.

“‘Tsumu, you got come all over me.”

Atsumu huffs in response. “You encouraged me to fuck your ass cheeks, what do you expect? Plus, you got come all over my hand.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah, oh yeah. Come on, let’s go shower.”’

 

***

 

Atsumu stands in front of Osamu, lathering up soap between his hands before washing Osamu.

“You know, ‘Samu, your arms have gotten thicker.”

“Yeah, and so has your ass.”  
  
“I was actually trying to compliment you, you little shit! Guess I’ll take it back then.”

“Nooo...I like it when you’re nice to me. You’re so salty half the time.”  
  
“Here you are, still insulting me.”

“I’m sorry, come here.”

Atsumu glares but relents, stepping into Osamu’s embrace.

He smiles, happy to be here with his reliable spiker, his twin and his lover. Nobody knows his as well as Osamu does.


End file.
